"Plans are useless, but planning is indispensable." - Dwight D. Eisenhower
This famous observation from President Eisenhower, a five-star general who orchestrated one of the most complex military operations in history, contains a profound truth about preparing for a crisis. The value is not found in the static, finished plan, but in the dynamic, indispensable process of planning itself.
Too often, organizations forget this. Picture the scene: a dozen leaders gather for the annual tabletop exercise. A thick binder is placed on the table, and for the next two hours, they dutifully flip through pages. This ritual creates a dangerous illusion of preparedness. Often, this exercise devolves into an administrative audit disguised as a strategic drill. The focus becomes updating contact lists and confirming roles on a chart, mistaking the upkeep of a document for the readiness of the organization.
The fundamental mistake is thinking the goal is to have a perfect plan. The real goal is to have a resilient team, forged by the process of planning. A tabletop exercise isn't a test of how well people have memorized a document; it's a test of the organization's collective ability to think, communicate, and react under pressure.
The Plan Serves the Team, Not the Other Way Around
Many organizations treat their continuity and response plans as rigid, sacred texts. But a plan is a compass, not a GPS. It provides direction, but it cannot predict the exact terrain of a crisis. Therefore, the core principle of any exercise must be: The plan should adapt to the organization's needs; the organization should not be forced to adapt to the plan's rigid structure.
The tabletop is the forum where the plan breathes, where its assumptions are challenged, and where it is updated to reflect the reality of how your team actually operates.
The most valuable moments in any exercise are not when someone correctly recites a line from the document. They are when a leader pushes the binder aside and says, "The plan says to do X, but that would never work because..." or "To solve this, I would need access to Y, but I have no idea who provides that." These moments of discovery are the entire point.
The Anatomy of a Real Tabletop
A well-designed tabletop is not a performance; it's a dynamic, facilitated discussion where the plan is just one resource in the room, not the script for the play. The goal is to see how your team reacts when faced with a real challenge.
Consider the difference in approach:
- The Old Way: "Bob, according to page 47 of the BCP, what is your first step?" This is a test of memorization and document navigation.
- The New Way: "Bob, you just got an alert that the primary data center is offline. Your phone is blowing up with calls from your team and the media. What are you doing right now?" This is a test of reaction, prioritization, and critical thinking.
The facilitator’s job is to present a scenario that disrupts the neat order of the plan. The objective isn't to force adherence to the script; it's to observe the team's instinctive response. You then compare that intelligent, human reaction to what the plan says. The gaps you find—the places where the plan is outdated, unrealistic, or unclear—are the gold you are mining for.
Conclusion: Preparing for the Unthinkable
A modern tabletop exercise should never be a test of your people; it is a test of your organization’s collective ability to respond, adapt, and recover effectively when faced with a dynamic threat.
Static plans are designed for predictable failures. But history’s greatest challenges are rarely predictable. Who had a detailed plan for a global pandemic in December 2019? Who saw the events of 9/11 coming? Who could have documented the full, cascading system failure of Hurricane Katrina in advance?
No one. And that is the entire point. The goal of a tabletop is not to ensure people have memorized a script for a foreseeable event. It is to build the collaborative muscle memory, communication pathways, and adaptive leadership required to handle the completely unforeseeable.
Crucially, this approach has a powerful side effect: it creates genuine engagement. When you ask leaders to solve a complex problem rather than recite a document, you get their full attention. They become active participants in their own preparedness, thinking critically and collaborating to find solutions, not just passively checking a box.
Stop auditing your plan. Start stress-testing your organization’s ability to think, adapt, and lead through a crisis.